


Thirst

by cjwritergal



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1222747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjwritergal/pseuds/cjwritergal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catching Fire AU: Haymitch and Katniss in the arena. Drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirst

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a livejournal prompt of "Katniss and Haymitch in the arena". So, I basically switched Peeta and Haymitch's places.

 

* * *

 

Haymitch lay on the cave floor, gasping, blood flowing freely from his head and left shoulder. His legs splayed out, twitching, feverish eyes flying blindly around.

"Water!" I called back, pressing the cloth to his wounds, avoiding his desperate arms. His hands were shaking, his body still clamoring for the alcohol we didn't have. The alcohol whose lack had made him fall.

"Katniss-" Finnick handed me the water, circling around to hold Haymitch down while I cleaned his wounds, blood staining my hands. Funny how that always seemed to happen.

"He needs his drink," Finnick said, holding the shaking hands tighter. "Or he'll die, wounds or no."

"Peeta!" I called into the cave, knowing that the cameras would see and hear me. "Peeta! Please!"

The seconds passed, and nothing came.

"Haymitch," I said fiercely, futilely trying to reach him, holding out the water. "Haymitch, drink this!" He grabbed at it frantically, obviously expecting something like white liquor, his shaking hands dropping the canteen as soon as the taste touched his mouth.

Something hit me then, hit my heart. I didn't want Haymitch to die like this; not just because he'd been my mentor (friend?) but because he didn't deserve to die in pain like this, weak with longing.

Suddenly his hands found me, and he whispered something like my name. I waved away Finnick's hands trying to keep him down.

"Peeta-" Haymitch gasped, and for a moment his eyes cast around wildly, as though looking for him. "Katniss, Peeta-"

"Peeta's safe," I said, watching again for anything that could help. "Finnick, check more toward the mouth of the cave!"

"Safe," Haymitch repeated, and for a moment he calmed. "Important."

"I know," I whispered, swallowing past a sudden lump in my throat. That was what mattered; Peeta was safe. Safe, and watching us fight to the death.

"Katniss!" I turned back, seeing Finnick running toward me, a few items in his hand- including alcohol.

I had no sooner grabbed it, when Haymitch's trembling hands found me again, pulling me roughly toward him. For a moment, his eyes were clear. "Don't let me win, Katniss." His words faded for a moment, then came back stronger. "Don't let me win."

His fingers slipped, and he fell back again, body continuing to shake. I tucked my hand under his head, opened the bottle with my teeth, and tipped the drink down his throat. I knew what he was asking of me.

"You won't win, Haymitch," I said softly, feeling Finnick's eyes watching with something like surprise.

"Peeta," he said again, and I nodded. "Peeta."

"Safe. Alive."

"Yes."

Haymitch's body began to calm, drifting off to sleep. His hand slid up to mine, holding my fingers briefly. "Live," he whispered, his voice barely a breath, before his hand fell, and his chest began to rise more evenly.

"Tick tock," Wiress said quietly, kneeling beside Haymitch and touching his head. "Tick tock."

 


End file.
